


Efficiency

by mountagrue



Series: untitled gangbang series [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Come as Lube, Creampie, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Double Penetration, F/M, Face-Fucking, Facials, Gang Rape, Gangbang, He/Him Pronouns For Crowley (Good Omens), Manipulation, Masturbation, Other, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slurs, Triple Penetration, Vaginal Sex, because it's like the inverse of consensual non-consent???, is the best tag i can think of for when someone is into it but pretends otherwise?, non-consensual consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 06:30:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20719655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mountagrue/pseuds/mountagrue
Summary: Prompt: Tempting men to rape is lust and violence in one, doing it in bunches is efficient, and Crowley using a sexy female form to do it is better than picking some poor human woman as a victim. And to be honest, he really gets off on the whole thing even while he's laying on the protests nice and thick.





	Efficiency

Crowley's on all fours in the dingy back room of an exceedingly trashy pub. His blouse is hanging open and torn and his skirt is up around his waist, his panties long gone who knows where. Surrounding him are eight of the worst sort of men he could find that weren't already signed and sealed for Hell. The kind of men who've never raped someone before, but only because they never had the opportunity - or who've been fooling themselves so far with the plausible deniability of only fucking drunk girls who still look mostly conscious. The kind of guys it'd be a real shame if some quirk of the ineffable moral calculus let them into heaven. Much better to pull them down into the unambiguous territory of gang-raping a crying woman, and if that woman is Crowley and Crowley is secretly having a whale of a time, well, it still counts as long as they don't know that, doesn't it?

He's already taken two loads in his cunt and one down his throat when he remembers he's meeting Aziraphale for dinner in a couple hours. Cleanup is never a problem with occult powers, but he still likes to have a little time to recover, get into a mildly snarky mood instead of a hugely provoking mood before he sees the angel, so he's going to have to speed it up.

Sometimes when he does this he likes to inspire some real depravity, keep things going after nobody can get it up anymore with some bonus cruelty. He fondly remembers the real brute who managed to fit a wine bottle inside him after barely any tempting at all and hopes that bloke is having a fantastically awful time in hell.

Still, if he's going to make sure each man has a solid black mark on his soul and still finish up within the hour, they're going to have to get more efficient.

"Please," he sobs, wiggling his arse temptingly. "I can't take any more!"

"We'll see about that, whore," says the man balls-deep in Crowley's pussy. Crowley's been thinking of him as John because he really seems to love calling Crowley a whore. "I think you can take a lot more, right boys?"

There's a chorus of cheers as he pulls out, fingers still pressing bruises into Crowley's hips, and drives his cock into Crowley's arsehole with nothing to ease the way except the viscous mix of Crowley's slick and other men's come that coats his dick from its sojourn in Crowley's cunt. _Jackpot_.

Crowley screams and scrambles up on his knees, reaching back behind himself to push ineffectually at John and force him to grab hold of Crowley's wrists in the small of his back. Then it's simply a matter of giving a little psychic push to the impatience of the next man in line, call his attention to Crowley's puffy red pussy lips, already swollen from rough fucking and glistening with leaking semen.

The man says "Fuck it," kneels down in front of Crowley and pushes his shoulders firmly back against John's chest. Oh, that's good - that really gets John's cock in deep, and the strain in his thighs as he arches his body back is perfect.

The second man pulls his cock out - oh, nice curve, Crowley's gonna think of this one as Bendy - and shoves it up into Crowley's cunt, which is stretched and wet and takes him easily, although the weight of John's cock in his arse makes it feel like more. Oh, yeah.

They sort out some kind of rhythm quickly, and Crowley wails as both men start fucking him harder and faster. He pitches the noise higher and higher, adds an awful nasal tone, and at last Bendy mutters "Christ, will somebody shut this bitch up?" and one of the others steps forward, cock in hand, and grabs Crowley by the hair, yanking his head to one side.

"No, please no," he shrieks, and then his mouth is full of cock and he's free to lie back and enjoy himself. 

And he is _really_ enjoying himself. His arse has loosened up a bit since the first rough push, and John's cock frankly isn't that big, but he's really hammering away in there - impressive core strength, honestly - plus he's holding Crowley's wrists bruisingly tight and occasionally muttering things like "Take it, whore, you like that big cock in your arse?" Meanwhile, Bendy is using Crowley's currently-ample tits to hold on to, squeezing great big handfuls as he slams into Crowley's pussy over and over, chasing his own pleasure but still grazing Crowley's g-spot irregularly. He'd worry about showing how much he likes that, but Blondie - for the colour of the pubes tickling Crowley's nose - is doing a great job hiding Crowley's face, with both hands in his long hair and his belly blocking the light and his fat cock muffling Crowley's moans, stretching his mouth wide enough he can't even give himself away with his tongue, which tends to lick reflexively. 

After a while, John's thrusts speed up and he groans out one final "filthy whore" as he shoots off in Crowley's arse. He pulls out jerkily and another man is there to replace him before Crowley can even start to wile, which means events have taken on a nice momentum of their own. The new guy shoves in and something feels different - ooh, piercings? Fan-fucking-tastic. Crowley mentally christens him Albert and wonders if any of them will notice him coming around their cocks.

They do notice, but only because Blondie goes and pulls out to come on Crowley's face just as it hits him, so they're all treated to a distinctly orgasmic long moan as Crowley revels in the dissolution. The spectators laugh and jeer as Bendy throws his head back with a roar and fills up Crowley's spasming cunt with another load of come.

"She likes it!"

"Look at her face!"

"Slut can't get enough dick!"

That's inconvenient. Some of them might go home thinking they aren't fucking rapists. Crowley springs back into action, wriggling around on Albert's delightfully bumpy prick as he cringes back from the others.

"Please let me go," he cries out. "It hurts, it hurts so much, please stop, please have mercy! I promise I won't call the cops if you just let me go-o-o!"

He adds some snot to the blubbering. Then he thinks it might not be visible with all the come on his face, so he also makes sure there's some very noticeable blood on Bendy's cock when he pulls out and stands up.

"Oh, that's disgusting," someone says, pointing at it.

"Ugh, frigid bitch," says Bendy, and leans down to wipe it off on Crowley's bruised tits. Now that's more like it!

There's only one guy now who hasn't had a turn. Some of them look to be getting hard again, but it's nearly time to wrap up anyway, so he won't bother tempting them to have another crack. Well, maybe if it's just the come shot. 

He shrieks nasally again when Albert resumes fucking his arse, and the last guy steps forward, kneels down and pulls him down by the hair.

"No thanks on the sloppiest seconds," he remarks to Bendy, and shoves his cock down Crowley's throat. Crowley directs everyone's attention to the way his tits are bouncing as he's shoved back and forth on the two cocks, to the dribbles of come leaking out of his fucked-open pussy as Albert's balls slap against it on every thrust, and the gagging sounds as he takes it in his throat. Soon they're all standing around with their hands on their dicks, and Crowley mentally awards himself full marks for efficiency as he feels each of their come splashing onto his skin one by one. Albert's just about done too, judging by the way he's grunting back there, so he gives the last guy a mental nudge and is rewarded with another load of come on his tongue and his face just before Albert thrusts in deep one last time and then pulls out, leaving Crowley's sore arse empty and leaking.

_Well, it's been fun, boys_, he thinks, and makes them all hear footsteps in the hallway. With a guilty start they zip up and head out the back door.

Alone at last, Crowley stretches the kinks out of his back and flops down in the puddle of semen to rub out a few quick orgasms, feeling the aches and bruises and smears of semen all over him, fingering his cunt a little to help even more drip out onto his thighs. When he's done, he vanishes the whole mess of come, blood and tears, heals up the swelling and scrapes, and shrinks his tits down before clothing himself in his usual garb and sauntering vaguely down towards the bookshop.


End file.
